


subway song

by literatiruinedme



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Meet-Cute, New York City, Subways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23288671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literatiruinedme/pseuds/literatiruinedme
Summary: Betty's never late- until she is.At least she has the help of a handsome stranger.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 19
Kudos: 113
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	subway song

**Author's Note:**

> and the [mood board](https://i.imgur.com/Em2FGwL.jpg)

Betty didn't mind the subway.

She hated that the L train seemed to always be running late or under construction, she hated watching people struggling to insert their card, she hated ignoring panhandlers when she barely had enough money to survive herself (and she  _ definitely _ didn't have the money to buy snacks for all of the struggling people around her), but every flaw the MTA had couldn't hold a candle to the stranger who sat across from her Monday through Friday morning.

Every workday, Betty made her way from her small studio apartment to the station in Bushwick, forgoing the more direct L train for the M before taking the 6 to her end destination. Despite never talking, Betty always sat with her book, trying to focus on the characters on the pages, even as the handsome stranger sat directly in her line of vision.

Some days he read, others, he worked on his laptop or wrote in a composition notebook. Every morning, he offered Betty a timid smile that she gladly returned.

He never wore a suit or anything fancy; always some variation of a t-shirt, a flannel, sometimes a jacket, but he was never without a pair of beat-up Converse sneakers and his crown-like beanie.

Like the homeless man a block from her apartment that she gave a handful of change to every morning or the drummer that drifted from above the subway to inside the small, cramped station, the man on the train was a staple of her weekday mornings.

Most mornings were busy, but almost never bad. 

Her morning, however, had been terrible; she had missed her alarm, subsequently setting her running far behind.

So, she ran her usual three-block walk, nearly bumping into every person on the street, past the homeless man by her apartment, past the drummer standing at the top of the station, before heading directly down the stairs, her yellow subway pass in hand.

She let out a noise of distress when she was yanked away from her current path. “Hey!” Betty shouted, looking down at the hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her up the empty left side of the stairs; she nearly missed a step when she realized that the handsome stranger from her morning commute was pulling her along. 

“The L’s on time,” he said without any further explanation.

“What?”

“You're going to be late, we need to run.”

Betty blinked, nodding when she couldn't think of anything else to say before she allowed herself to be pulled along.

He pulled her bag from her shoulder, tugging it over his head before leading her down an avenue.

She was running the best she could in heels, but he also kept glancing back to check on her, making something warm bloom in her chest. 

They descended the stairs, quickly weaving through the many meandering walkways after swiping in with their metro cards.

His shoulders tensed when they made it onto the platform just in time to catch the train.

The doors closed, trapping them with the rest of the commuters squeezed into the small train car, their hands a hair's breadth away from one another on the bar mounted over their heads.

Betty stood, breathing heavily as she rested her head on the handsome stranger's shoulder, her eyes heavy as she fought off exhaustion. “Hey,” she breathed suddenly. “Was I the only one who's punctuality was affected by my lateness?” She raised her head off of his shoulder, looking at his piercing blue eyes. “You said  _ I _ was going to be late, so we had to run.”

He blinked, taken aback by her question before a dopey smile crossed his lips as his shoulders relaxed. “Jughead Jones.” He held his hand out to her, the angle awkward due to the lack of room in the subway car.

“Betty Cooper.” Skeptically, she shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jughead,” she said slowly, his name foreign, but not unwelcome on the tip of her tongue. She smiled as his cheeks twinged pink. “Now, why are you introducing yourself as an answer to my question?”

Jughead shrugged a shoulder. “I figured you may want a name for the restraining order,” he laughed self-deprecatingly. “I don't-” He sighed heavily. “I don't actually have anywhere to be. The first time you sat down I was four months into a bad case of writer's block and then I saw you and it vanished.” He smiled sheepishly. “I take the train into your station early and I wait around for you.”

“That's super creepy, but very sweet.”

Jughead laughed loudly, slapping his hand over his mouth when he remembered the hour and the number of people crammed into the tiny subway car. “I almost started bringing coffee, but I didn't know what you liked and opening my mouth was  _ not _ an option, so I just started casually stalking you for your morning commute.”

Betty smiled, sliding her hand closer so she could hook her pinky over his. “You could have introduced yourself.”

“I know that now,” he said, a soft pink twinge rising over his cheeks.

Betty smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek as the train slowed to a stop at the station she needed to get off at. “I'm off at five and I'll be on this subway platform at quarter-after; don't keep me waiting long, okay?”

Jughead smiled up at her before nodding. “How do you take your coffee again?”

“I'm more of a milkshake girl.”

He grinned. “Chocolate?”

She shook her head. “Vanilla. I can take you to the best diner, if you want one.”

Jughead nodded again, smiling up at her like they were teenagers and she was his first crush. “Tonight?” he asked excitedly. 

“Maybe this weekend.” Betty shrugged one shoulder as she spun away on her heel when the door by them opened. “I have another place in mind for tonight.”

“I'll be there.”

Betty glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Good.”

She stepped out into the station, throwing him one last smile before she checked her watch.

The L was unreliable, yes, but it was early and that meant she had a few minutes to smile like an idiot about the handsome stranger who was no longer such a stranger.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so very late, but satellitesinasupernova is the best sport of them all.  
> I really hope you enjoy this peanut <3  
> Sorry it took 84 years.


End file.
